Love

“Do you know how much I love you?” She pleaded every night before bed.

What was I supposed to say?

No?

No, love doesn’t feel like the look on the teacher’s faces when they tell me to go inside since I’m the last one waiting to be picked up, every week?

No, love doesn’t feel like babysitters during business trips.

No, love doesn’t feel like the bottom of a beer can. 

So, I said yes.  

Yes, love feels like when you rock me to sleep on the edge of my bed. 

Yes, love feels like you carrying me up to bed when I know I’m already too heavy.

Yes, love feels like I know you are doing the best you can in. spite. of. 

Yes, mom, I know you love me.  

Because now that I am a mom, I know how much it took for you to single-parent me and my sister.

Now that I am a mom, I know just how deep that love runs.

And now that I am a mom, I know how important it is for you to know that I know you’ve always loved me.

What I Want You to Know

What I Want You to Know

Is that in spite of my stubbornness, I am good and kind. 

That I am worthy of your love. 

That the reason I acted out is because I adored you and wanted your attention. 

That even as a mother of four, I still need my mommy. 

That I don’t want to fight. 

That no one can hurt me like you can because I care about what you think the most. 

That you built me to be strong in the face of adversity. 

And here I am. 

Take me as I am. 

Love me as I am. 

I am yours. 

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Love and Loss

“Unable are the loved to die.

For love is immortality.”

-Emily Dickinson

Looking around, questioning the validity of everything I sense.  What it must feel to walk on the moon. Like I’m floating out of this world.  Not really here, but watching from the outside in.  This is how it feels to live after loss.

And the more I realize I’m actually here, and she’s not, the more painful the reality becomes. Words like unfair.  Too soon. And Why plague my mind.

The phrase “Be Kind for everyone is fighting a hard battle.”  takes on a new meaning.

Suddenly, that asshole on the road is just another poor bastard doing the best he can.

And my child’s fit, is just that: a fit that will pass.

Love and Loss like spaghetti and meatballs, peanut butter and jelly- one not without the other.

And for a time, Kelly and Lauren.  Best friends forever.

Rest In Peace my sweet friend.  You are loved.

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Here I Am

The fourth was supposed to be so easy I wouldn’t even notice her.

Except she demanded recognition at 15 weeks in utero- small. Too small. For good reason.

She was a sick baby and required monitoring the entire pregnancy.

I foolishly believed things would improve once she arrived earth-side, but they only got more complicated and she never wanted to leave my side: ever.

I had never had a newborn that would not sleep in a cot. She had to be touching. It was always this way.

Fast-forward two years- sick babe, exasperated mom, lost older siblings.

I lie face to her face- I touch her cheek and she, mine.

We smile.

An understanding.

A need met.

Although I feel like I have nothing left to give, I find my reserves and

Here.

I.

Am.

Here I am, Child.

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Camille Vaughan Photography

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